Always Faithful, Always Forward
by Dakotaofraptors
Summary: Members of the 3rd Marine Division's 1st Battalion, 3rd Marines recount frontline experience in Asia; from morally gray dillhemas, to visceral combat, they hold no bards in this gritty alternate reality.
1. Making a Marine

Parris Island, South Carolina is an 8,095 acre military installation located 5 miles south of Beaufort. Here, they transform civilians into marines. There are 4 phases in the Marine recruitment process: the Receiving Phase, Phase 2, Phase 3, and Phase 4. Altogether, recruit training lasts 13 weeks.

Luka Ivanov was fresh off the bus when he, and many others, were given their first warm welcome. Fat, skinny; fit, scrawny; short, tall; a wide assortment of characters found themselves standing before a short and stout man with the face of a bulldog.

It was the dead of night. The short and stout man introduced himself as Drill Sergeant Matthew Reyes. Short or not, his presence demanded respect. "Stand at attention!" the man bellowed in a gravelly voice.

There were yellow footprints engraved into the concrete. Recruits had to align their feet with them, standing tall. The drill instructor would then inform them of the Code of Military Justice. In basic terms, you had to abide to the rules of engagement and follow strict procedures else you'd be punished by dishonorable discharge or prison.

After that was said and done, the recruits were given an opportunity to message their families. Many took the chance to do just that. A young recruit was calling his mother when three DIs - including Reyes - surrounded him. "LOUDER! LOUDER!" they yelled. "MOM, I HAVE COME TO INFORM YOU THAT I HAVE ARRIVED SAFELY AT MY DESTINATION, AND AM BEING TREATED WITH THE UTMOST RESPECT AND DIGNITY; I LOVE YOU, GOODBYE!" Then the recruit hung up.

Harassment ran rampant: it served to simulate the stresses of combat and to instill submission. In short, a DI would do whatever he can to make your life a living hell. A former drill sergeant made this remark: "During your training, you'll come to find boot camp a shitty place, but when out on the field, you'll thank God almighty that you got it in the first place."

Physical fitness is obviously a requirement: almost daily, recruits are required to jog, climb, jump, crawl, and mantle in a specified amount of time, all the while barrated by screaming and hollering from their drill instructors. It might seem like a pointless thing to do, but the constant screaming could, and did, get to many of the men's heads. It made them nervous; they couldn't think or react properly. Fail these requirements, and you go home, but if you're able to persevere, then you'll be subjected to gratuitous amounts of exercise, with little - if any - breaks inbetween.

Not even during "break time" are you safe; studying is also a must: you learn marine terminology, weapon functionality, and other related topics. Luka found no reason to complain, up until the moment that Drill Sergeant Reyes burst into the learning room with a devilish grin on his face, "Well, ladies, schedule's changed!" Nobody dared to openly complain. They wordlessly went into the field and worked themselves to the bone.

A similar situation happened at the mess hall, but that time the recruits were slogged down by spaghetti. "Bastards," Luka cursed under his breath.

By the time Phase 2 rolled around the corner, they were already learning the ins and outs of the military. Slowly but surely, they were adjusting themselves to the warrior lifestyle - the backbone of the Corps. The recruits are in shape, able to follow orders, and can march.

They're no longer individuals; 3rd person pronouns are now the only way to address oneself.

Swim week had begun. Besides another obstacle course being added to the workload, water survival lessons were mandatory for the recruit to pass the next phase; fail twice and the recruit would be evaluated to see if they warrant another chance. The qualifications for water survival training are as follows:

·25-meter swim

·10-foot jump followed by 25-meter swim (recruits must abide by the proper swimming technique in order to pass this test)

·Tread water in 3 minutes or less

·Recruits must take off their helmet, rifle and vest in less than 10 seconds

·25-meter swim with gear

By the end of week 5, recruits are given fresh haircuts and uniform fittings. They'll also undergo the combat fitness test: an array of strenuous real-world task that will bring them to the absolute limit. A 5 kilometer run marks the climatic end to phase 2. Here, they transfer over to Camp Pendleton.

Edson Range at Camp Pendleton is where marksmen are born. Phase 3 is partly spent on the range where recruits learn how to operate a rifle and maintain proper stances. Sitting, kneeling, prone, standing - it's all learned. Shooting at ranges of 200 to 500 yards, shooting up to 50 rounds. Each shot is given a score of 5, 4, 3, 2, and 0, which is a miss. The rifle qualification levels:

·Marksman (250-279)

·Sharpshooter (280-302)

·Expert (305-350)

Luka achieved a score of 309.

At the end of the week, recruits will hike 8 kilometers.

With the final weeks of bootcamp drawing close, the conglomerate of skills learned over the coming months would then be put to the test. The crucible was their final trial.

Housed in an enclosed space filled to the brim with gas, everybody scrambled to achieve their given orders. Some ran out. "I was told to take off my gas mask," Private Jacob Hopkins later recalled, "and I did so. My eyes and nose stung to the point I openly cried - and I never cry!" When the exercise was over, everyone found themselves to be stocked high full of mucus and tears. "It was a disgusting mess."

The Crucible is the final test in recruit training, and represents the culmination of all of the skills and knowledge a Marine should possess.

For 56 hours, recruits must use teamwork and their indvidual skill sets to progress.

Some of the challenges encountered during the Crucible are team and individual obstacle courses, day and night assault courses, land navigation courses, individual rushes up steep hills, large-scale martial arts challenges and countless patrols to and from each of these.

These challenges are often made even more difficult by the additions of limitations or handicaps, such as the requirement to carry several ammo drums, not touching portions of an obstacle painted red to indicate simulated booby traps, and evacuating team members with simulated wounds.

On the final day of the Crucible, recruits are awoken and begin their final march (including "The Reaper" a forced march up a steeply inclined hill to the top of Edson's Ridge on the west coast) when they arrive the drill instructors will offer the recruits the Eagle, Globe, and Anchor (EGA) emblem which give them the title Marine.

Immediately after this, Marines hike back down The Reaper and are then offered the "Warrior's Breakfast", where they are permitted to eat as much as they like, even of previously forbidden foods, such as ice cream. During this meal, the new Marines have the opportunity to eat and talk with their Drill Instructors informally for the first time.

Matthew Reyes - the origin of many a recruits' torment - was seen as an actual person.

Contradictingly, he was a gentle and soft spoken man, with kids and a wife.

"Drill Instructors make the best actors," one Marine joked. _

The graduation cermony was a time of celebration. The now-Marines had seen a drastic transormation: they started out as fat/scrawny, acne-ridden teens and came out "as lean, mean, and hella keen," as Luka described it. With his cropped, blond hair, and his dress blues, he paraded along the streets in celebration, alongside his new brothers. The feeling of achievement reverberated throughout. Families sitting by the sidelines waved and cheered, exclaiming with pride, "that's my boy!" and all sorts of endearment.

After graduation, Marines are given a 10 day leave. The leave is a time to rest up and think over the things they've accomplished, as well as to incorporate their newfound discipline into civilian life.

Luka's mother had disproved of his going to the armed forces. She was the type to smother. But his devotion to his country far surpassed his need to please his mother.

When word came that they were shipping out to Okinawa, Japan, many of the boys bid their families farewell; it would be months before they return to the States.


	2. Taiwan

The 1st Battalion, 3rd Marines arrived on Okinawa on the 7th of November, 2025. They were meant to replace the elements of the 3rd Battalion on Taiwan, whose rotation was due in just a couple of weeks.

Corpsman Eric Briener, 19, was assigned to a platoon within the 3rd Marines. He completed his Medical Field training, and after being assigned assigned to his respective unit, developed a close bond with many of its people. "Coincidentally I already knew some of the guys before my assignment: Luka Ivanov and I were buddies back in high school. It was pretty weird, 'cause, though the Marines respect me, and vice versa, I was still sort of the outlier of the group; I was simply known as 'Doc'."

He, too, was still a 'virgin'. "I didn't really know how to feel about my first deployment. I saw a couple of Marines and soldiers walk past with bandages wrapped around their heads and bodies. I felt torn between being mad and anxious."

Taipei was their destination, and the brass made sure to inform the newcomers of their objective.

Lieutenant Damien Goldbrooke, 29, emphasized the importance of hearts and minds. "Win over the people, and you win the war," he said.

Most of the newcomers took this to mind; some took that extra step.

Eric Briener studied the Taiwanese culture extensively, with the aid of Marine Private Sugar.

He proclaimed himself as an asian aficionado, having extended family all over the continent; he himself came from Mongolia. "I found it pretty funny that his name was Sugar: it fit, 'cause he was such a sweetheart!" Eric complimented.

The two quickly became friends and chatted over their similarities: Eric Briener was a German immigrant; Sugar Ra was Mongolian; both were more introverted than others, and their enthusiasm for wildlife was readily apparent.

"Me, Sugar, and a couple of others would scour the woods and bird watch. I had a blast learning about them thanks to the locals."

When the virgin Marines weren't goofing off, they trained and studied. Japanese Defense Force (JDP) personnel would cross train with them; sometimes other nations would get involved, most prominently the UK and Australia. The Marine barracks had a sign plastered above the main building: "USMC - second to none!" The British Royal Marines had their barracks right beside them: "Royal Marines - none".

Exercises were conducted in the boonies. A platoon would be placed on either team. Blanks were used to simulate weapons fire, and a replica cityscape crafted with wood would set the foundation for the simulated battle. The Royal Marines usually came out victorious, and would often jest their "little brother" - the USMC - in good fashion sportsmanship.

The Royal Marines, however, had met their match with the US Army's 1st Special Forces Group.

Many of the Marines joyously looked on.

Lieutenant Damien Goldbrooke had been in the shit longer than anybody else in the 1st Battalion: with a pretty face and unassuming physique, all of the new guys were none the wiser. Damien's been in the Corps for 7 years and has been deployed 6 times, so it wasn't too surprising to find that he was a strict, if fair, man.

He told the new guys about the situation in Taiwan, how radicals would blend in with the civilian population to avoid detection, among other things.

"They looked just like any other person, with a tee and khakis and whatever else you would normally wear. One moment you could share a drink with a guy and the next you end up having to put a bullet in his head."

"-I ended up losing four guys to these bastards.

Irregardless of his human personal feelings, Damien emphasized the importance of cooperating with the locals, as per requirement. This wasn't a traditional war, but one of ideology.

The 1st Battalion boarded the C-130 VTOL (colloqially known as "Fat Albert") on the 20th. They were headed towards the Taiwanese capital, Taipei. It was a modern metropolis; a blend between new and old.

Taipei county was relatively stable. A few isolated skirmishes were reported in the forested area just south of Taipei City, with 2 injured, but for the most part, things were relative tame.

The culture was rich and the people were polite, however an air of suspicion always lingered. Katelyn Langrid, 24, was a civilian doctor from the States. She kept a 1911 pistol on her hip everywhere she went.If only she knew how to use it.

Patrols scoured the surrounding area on a daily basis. They were conspicuous in their approach, armed to the brim with bomb-sniffing dogs and accompanied by walking ammo bearers - four-legged robots that handled the brunt of the weight. Aborignes looked onward in curiosity, which didn't help put any of the Americans at ease. Private Jacob Hopkins was patrolling with several others; a misunderstanding almost costed a woman her life. "The

woman ran at me like a maniac waving her arms about. I tell you what, it scared me shitless! Apparently she came from the south and lost her husband from the fighting. Poor girl..."

Another scare came during the morning of November 29th.

Those on base were alarmed to find graffiti littering the walls and vehicles, in broken English, saying "Go hom gee eye!"

No one was reported missing, but those on guard duty were immediately sent in for questioning.

Doctor Langrid slept with her pistol in hand after that.

"They could've slit our throats - they could've killed us! I think the only reason they didn't was because they simply loved screwing with us.

Luka Ivanov was more pissed than anything. "Someone stole my porn stash! Guess it was convienient that they had the Tais to blame; probably better that way."

Security tightened; everybody kept a watchful eye on their buddies, sleeping in shifts. The COs and NCOs reviewed the footage and found that two people clad in black overalls and hockey masks dug their way through a narrow tunnel nestled between two vehicles.

"We checked the location and found the tunnel entrance: it was concealed by shrubbery and after using our drones to scan the interior we found that it had to run for at least a mile. My heart had practically stopped by that point," one NCO commented.

The Taiwanese communists were crafty: the forests and rural towns were littered with traps meant to maim - not kill - its victims.

Kill a person, and you take one person out of the fight (as the dead aren't a main priority in high intensive situations), but maim them and you can take 2 or more people out of the fight, including transport and a medic.

They controlled the southern half of the island, and there was no doubt that the fighting would be bloody. "Thing is that there are still a bunch of civies living there, so we can't bomb them into submission." Elements of the Army's 101st Airborne and the 3rd Marine Division would then spearhead the assault. Many of the virgin troops were a mixture of excited and anxious; everyone knew they weren't all going to make it out in one peace.

"God have mercy on our souls," Eric pleaded.


	3. Baptized In Fire

Admiral Kaleb Jenkins was a wise-cracking, foul mouthed sailor with a tension for quick and efficient action: he looked down on heroics, and would often evaluate every campaign down to the most minute detail. The 3rd Marine Division under his command respected him, because he often went in the filth with them. Admiral Jenkins worked hard to achieve his position, but he was a humble man from the prairies of Texas; pride wasn't in his nature.

So when he was selected by General William Pierce, a conceitted man with little to show for it, he felt conflicted with his emotions. "I had low regard for William. The man was ignorant, cowardly, and vain."

Nevertheless, Admiral Jenkins sought to prove himself and his men, even to the likes of General William. An army guy through and through, General William made his way through the ranks with the help of his big mouth, his readily available camera team, and a few pull of the strings; he was MacArthur's spiritual successor.

Acompanying him were his subordinates, men that loved to stroke William's ego for their own beneficial gain; no matter how nonsensical or flat out detrimental his plans may be. Indeed, General William Pierce lived in his own secluded bubble of yes-men. Nobody dared question his ethics.

Kaleb Jenkins met with one such yes man: Leonard P. Scott, who lived luxoriously in an Okinawan hotel 460 or so miles from the action. He was a rich blood - with flashy medals and a shit-eating grin on his face. Short, pig-faced, the man couldn't have been more fitting of the moniker, "Piggy Bank Leo". William Pierce had practically pulled the man out of the gutter. His military career was a farce, and no sooner had Pierce set him under his wing, would he have been relieved of duty. Piggy Bank Leo was forever grateful for that, so naturally, whatever Pierce asked of him, he sought to bring to fruition - whether it was for some moral obligation of repayment, or an effort to protect his own skin, nobody knew.

Leonard P. Scott commanded the X Corps, an amalgamation of the Marine 3rd Division, Army 7th Division, the 77th, the newly activated 91st, with elements of the 101st and 29th Divisions thrown in. So, Admiral Jenkins was under Scott's command.

His troops were preoccupied with Taiwan, but questions arose on the basis of how to speed up its pacification.

Kaleb Jenkins suggested a more meticulous approach: a search and destroy mission that hopped from one location to the next - no stone left unturned. Scott demanded otherwise. "A blitzkrieg across the island will hurry the pacification effort," he said.

The sheer lack of foresight was readily apparent to the Admiral: a quick advance into the southern edge of the island would leave the flanks open to counterattack. Not only that, but there was insufficient manpower needed to sweep across the island - not without spreading the troops too thin; a decent enough force could easily break through the lines and trap a large amount of men in its grasp.

Admiral Jenkins advised against this to no avail. "We have a deadline to meet," Leonard proclaimed, "if we don't pacify Taiwan by April of next year, General William will be on all of our asses." April was too little time to get any noticeable results: to clear an island nation - with a population roughly that of 24 million - of all hostilities in such a short deadline would seem nothing short of impossible.

They can sweep across Taiwan, enter Tainen City on the southern edge of the island and occupy it till the arrival of the 91st Divsion, but then the Reds could regain control of neglected areas of importance. It was a gamble, a massive one at that. Admiral Jenkins, however, dared not utter another word.

By the 7th of December, the 3rd Marine Division had made it to Chiayi City, nestled right beside the boonies - Jushon National Park. All of their assets were directed toward their East, where the rural streets were obscured by foliage and woodland. The crafty Tais would surely have traps in store for them. They'd be correct in assuming so: Eric Briener tended to a Marine's wounds. "Some sap was scouring for some wood to start a fire. He came across a heap of wood just off some beaten path. He picked up some without realizing there was a string attached; grenade blew up and desecrated his left cheek - you could see pieces of shrapnel teeth, and blood pouring out of the gash in his cheek. He was one of the lucky ones."

From then on, the Marines were extra weary of the environment. The civvies had long since fled, so collateral damage was much less of an issue.

Punji traps, sharpened pieces of bamboo dug into the ground, were often laced with excrement to further irritate a wound. Three guys already had to be evacuated because they didn't tread carefully, "-now they had a hole full of shit in their foot."

The Marines made a routine of checking any "suspicious" building that came their way, ones that were partway through construction or worn down from years of neglect. The doors (if there were doors in the first place) were easily unhinged from their roots. A simple kick, and a squad of Marines would sweep the room, and then the next.

The first eleven buildings had nothing of importance, (maybe some collectables to send home to family) but the twelfth proved otherwise. Six Marines manuvered through a column of stairs towards the second story. Corporal Haden McCarthy bursted through a door when a flurry of gunfire struck his chest plate. A couple of the bullets penetrated and struck his heart; he died almost instantly. "We took out the two bastards in the room when a corpsman checked Haden for a pulse. During his last moments, he had a calm sort of aura about him, like he knew he was gonna die, but he just accepted it. One of the insurgents was still breathing so I put two in the chest, one between the eyes - no hesitation."

All in all, pockets of resistance blanketed the city of Chiayi like soft snow - everywhere, but disorganized and lacking in intensity. Scuffles offered a daily bout of excitement for the new guys, which never lasted longer than an hour. Charlie Finnegan of Alpha Company wrote in his memoir, "Engagements became part of the daily grind: once, maybe twice a day, you'd get a couple of guys shooting like wild men at you until you put 'em down. After a firefight is over, we'd all go, 'that it?' and move on our marry way. It did beg the question, though: how bad will Tainen be?"

Monsoon season had passed, but it was on that particular week that the rain reached a crescendo: supplies were getting bogged down, men couldn't get through; they couldn't even get the wounded out.

Lieutenant Damien Goldbrooke showed the boys how to build a proper two man foxhole, by inclining the opposite ends of the foxhole to drain out excess water. He had a cool resonance about him that many found endearing: his voice can stand out among a crowd but he would never yell; his stoic stature gave him the impression of a stone cold warrior, but he was caring of his men. Damien Goldbrooke lead his men with such gusto that they would "march to hell and back with him."

"We endured the, uh, stuff together," Private Sugar Ra said. "Damien wasn't an elitist, he was just one of the guys. He was a leader when he had to be - so he was the one to make tough decisions - but his commitment to getting us home in one piece was endearing."

They slept in the rain that night on a 50/50 watch.

The 3rd Marines had made it to Tainen City, a genuine "Chinatown" from the deep east. Though not as visually impressive as say, the capital, everybody was glad to lay their eyes on an actual city once again. Most of the 3rd Division came from the northern United States, from Maine, New York, Washington and the like - they were used to the bustling urban setting. The streets on arrival, were void of people.

It was likely that they were fed anti-American propaganda. A similar situation happened during World War 2 with the Japanese: historians said that "The Japanese were taught that Americans troops were criminals of the highest degree, cannibalistic predators ready to rape and pillage anything in their wake; this was one of the contributing factors to the Japanese reluctance to surrender."

It wasn't too far fetched of a proposition: the few Tais that did come out smiled awkwardly at the Americans. Mothers shielded their children away from the Marines, and whispered amongst themselves the most vile of obscenities.

Luka wrote to his parents. He wasn't willing to admit the depravity of the situation, but he wasn't going to sugarcoat anything either - at least that way his mom would be less worried. "Sugar was casually strolling down a sidewalk and whistling a tune. He was walking up to a girl - about 13 years old - when he stopped dead in front of her. She had something in her hand - a knife, I don't know - but before the girl could anything stupid Sugar blew a bubble of gum and offered her some. 'Gum!' he said in that cheery voice of his. She took the gum, smiled and scampered off."

Doctors from various nations flooded in by plane, including Doctor Katelyn Langrid, who operated side by side with the Marines up until their departure south, with which she then traveled back to the states until the city of Tainen was designated "safe."

Though the corpsmen were talented at their job, it payed to have a legitimate surgeon around. The man with a gash in his cheek finally received proper treatment. In a show of good faith, surgeons got to work with treating the civilians as well: the door-to-door fighting exacerbated the number of civilian casualties to 11 injured and 3 dead.

"They choose the engagements," Jacob Hopkins would recollect, "the Reds made tunnels that scattered all around the island. They strike us when we least suspect it, and when we finally get our bearings, they'd run and hide again. It was like a screwed up game of whack-a-mole. So most of us went 'screw it' and brought the armor up to blow things to Kingdom Come."

The Erren river ran 38 miles, branching out into multiple basins edging onward into the dense inland jungles. It effectively split Tainen and Kaohsiung city in two: the UN forces held one side, and the Reds held another. Fire fights over distances of 200-250 yards raged on for the course of days, or maybe weeks at a time depending on the location.

The insurgents didn't expect the 91st Division to approach from the flanks, landing on Bossa Nova Beach from the south. The foe was trapped, but this only made them fight harder. They were metaphorically trapped between a rock and a hard place. The UN troops, though very much vulnerable in their own rights, fought an enemy on their own soil; for them it wasn't a strictly life or death situation. Over a thousand insurgents, maybe, occupied the southern half of the Erren River. Army units creeped forward from the flanks and south, and the Marines maintained a steady stream of fire to keep the enemy's heads down.

Lieutenant Colonel Timothy Yung watched from afar as tracers lit up the light sky "Like sparks of light racing to and fro." The Erren river reflected the lights beautifully - with greens and yellows shining on its surface in a display that could contend with a city. His 1/3 Marines were doing work. Lava Dogs, they're called. "Really fiiting."

Damien's platoon fastened themselves in a building just by the river. They were pinned good: bullets pelted the windows mercilessly, chipping away at its exterior like a jackhammer. "Alright boys, on the count of three I want a firing formation!" Damien bellowed. In a show of force, he wielded his carbine and fired in bursts at the enemy's general direction. Bullets whizzed passed his head and struck the wall behind him, but he was undeterred, settling back into cover only to reload.

The platoon of Marines, emboldened by their platoon commander, did the same. 2 Marines dropped, but they kept the pressure, taking turns as to not let up. Jacob Hopkins remembered it vividly: "I let loose with my SAW (squad automatic weapon), tapping the trigger for seconds at a time until the mag ran dry. I let my fire team buddy know this so that way he would lay down while I reloaded, then we'd rinse and repeat."

This was the cohesion that the Corps trained them for: each Marine had a purpose to fulfill; he would never willingly let his buddies down - especially when shit hit the fan. That night, Drill Sergeant Matthew Reyes had a lot of thanks coming his way.


End file.
